Chapter 5 - The Hallway of Echoes
Adrian Mercer stared down at the three-year-old child standing in the middle of a war zone, and for the first time in his adult life, his mind completely stalled.
"Emma," Mercer said, his voice dropping every harsh edge as he dropped to one knee beside her. "What are you doing out of your room?"
"The door wasn't locked," she said simply, tilting her head. "And Bruno wanted to go for a walk. He heard the bad men in the pipes."
Mercer’s gaze snapped from the child to the massive dog. Bruno's ears were pinned flat against his skull, his low, vibrating growl shaking the antique wall sconces. The dog knew. Long before the security sensors flashed or Marcus’s comms crackled, the animal’s hyper-sensitive hearing had picked up the metallic scrape of boots in the subterranean drainage system beneath the east wing.
"Marcus told you to stay in the room," Mercer said gently, placing a hand on Emma's small shoulder.
"Marcus is loud," Emma replied with absolute childish logic. "Bruno is quiet."
Mercer couldn't argue with that. He stood up, his face hardening back into the expression of a mob boss who was about to defend his kingdom. He looked down at the child, then looked at the dog. A dark, calculated plan formed in his mind—one that violated every rule of tactical safety he had ever lived by, but was the only way to neutralize the threat before they reached the living quarters.
"All right," Mercer whispered, gripping his Sig Sauer tightly in his right hand. He looked directly into the dark, intelligent eyes of the Cane Corso. "He's all yours, boy. Protect her."
It wasn't a formal command. It was an alliance.
May you like
Bruno let out a single, sharp exhale through his nostrils. The massive dog lowered his head, turning his body slightly to shield Emma behind his flank, and began to stalk down the hallway toward the west wing junction like an executioner stepping onto the scaffold.
Mercer fell in right behind them, his boots silent on the plush carpet, his pistol raised and ready.
